With Tuppence for Paper and Strings
by Daylight
Summary: After everything is over and things start getting back to normal, Dean is left with one problem: How do you cheer up a fallen god? AU inevitably ending to season 7


**With Tuppence for Paper and Strings**

**By Daylight**

The stairs creaked as Dean made his way down to the main floor of Bobby's house rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he did so. He wasn't surprised to find the man himself asleep on the couch in the library still fully clothed, his trucker's cap pulled down over his eyes, some old book resting on his stomach. Dean wondered if Bobby ever got around to using his bed. The man probably just used it as another place to pile his many books.

Entering the kitchen, Dean was greeted by the smell of coffee and the sight of his brother leaning against the counter sipping from a steaming mug.

"Morning," Dean mumbled absently, heading directly for the coffee maker, currently finding it much more attractive than his brother.

"Morning," Sam replied with a tired smile.

After a few gulps of what was thankfully pretty descent coffee, Dean's brain finally began to work and he became more aware of his surroundings, or more importantly, what was absent from them.

"Where's…?" he asked.

Sam nodded his head in the direction of the back door.

Dean groaned. "He can't still be out there."

"All night, as far as I can tell."

Moving over to the window, Dean pushed back a dusty curtain and gazed out. It was a gray morning, slate coloured clouds warning of possible rain and reddening leaves announcing the end of summer. Sitting in the midst of this on the back steps was a trenchcoat wearing figure looking more bedraggled than ever and slightly damp from the dew.

"That can't be healthy," was Dean's observant comment.

Sam joined him at the window. "There's probably enough angel left in him to stop him from catching a chill."

"I meant psychologically," replied Dean. "How long are we going to have to put up with all this moping?"

"He did almost destroy the whole entire world," said Sam, pointedly.

"Yeah, but hanging around moping isn't going to change anything," Dean said taking another sip of his coffee.

"Like you've never done anything like that."

Dean made a face. "I don't mope. You're the one who mopes. You're the king of moping."

Sam shook his head. "You've got to admit for someone who isn't human he's got the brooding part down pat." The younger Winchester gazed out the window where Castiel remained seated, his body inhumanly still. "He just needs some time."

"Well speaking as one of the humans who's going to be stuck with his brooding ass for the foreseeable future, I'm not in the mood to wait." Dean made his way back to the coffee maker and grabbed another mug.

"You really think you're the one to pull him out of this funk?" questioned Sam as he watched Dean pour the coffee.

"I've done it for you enough times, haven't I?" More times than Dean really wanted to count over the past year. Thankfully those times were occurring less and less frequently.

"Yeah, but I'm used to your abrasive methods."

Dean stared at him. "You're saying I can't do kind and gentle."

Sam just snorted.

"Well, someone has to do something," Dean grumbled. He gathered up his mugs and headed for the back door. Sam opened it for him and followed him out, but the expression on his face was less than optimistic. Dean just ignored him.

The morning air was still cool and Dean shivered wondering for a moment if Castiel ever felt the cold. He plunked himself down on the steps beside the former god.

"Here," he said offering Cas the extra mug.

"I don't want it," Castiel said not bothering to look up. His gaze seemed intent on an ant that was slowly crawling across his left shoe.

Dean shrugged and placed the mug down on the step between them so Castiel could reach it if he changed his mind. Taking a sip from his own mug, he contemplated what to say. The warmth of the coffee felt good in the cold air, but maybe that wasn't something Castiel could appreciate.

After a few minutes of silence, Dean took a deep breath and spoke.

"You're an idiot."

The sudden statement made Castiel look up. There was also a stifled chuckle from behind them and Dean sent his brother a glare. So it wasn't the greatest start to a pep talk at least he was trying.

Castiel's eyes returned to the ground. "I'm sor…"

"Stop." Dean held up a hand. "Please don't start with the apologizing and grovelling again. You've already apologized enough to make up for half the sins of mankind. Besides apologies really aren't going to cut it in this case."

If possible, Castiel looked even more wretched than before.

"And neither is moping," Dean added.

"Then what do you expect me to do?" Castiel countered angrily.

Dean couldn't help letting out a small smirk. He like pissed off Cas much better than mopey Cas. "Well, you could get out of this funk and stop acting like an ass for a start."

"I'm not an ass," Castiel muttered petulantly.

"No, like I said you're an idiot. You screwed up."

Castiel glared at him. "Nearly ending the entirety of existence is a little more than screwing up. Not to mention all the other countless atrocities I performed."

"All of which you did under the influence of the however many million evil souls you absorbed from purgatory. You can't be blamed for that," insisted Dean.

"But that was my choice. And even before that…" Castiel looked away once more. "What I did while I was searching for purgatory… What I did to Sam…"

"And I'm still kind of pissed off about that part, but guess what? Families forgive. You should try it some time." Dean took a moment to savour another mouthful of coffee.

"You expect me to believe that you've truly forgiven what I've done."

"Did I ever tell you about the time I beat up my brother and went on to start the apocalypse?" said Sam suddenly. Coming over, he sat down on Castiel's other side.

"The apocalypse I brought about by breaking the first seal," added Dean.

Castiel looked at them as if they'd both lost several of their marbles. "I know I was there."

"My point," Sam continued, "is neither of us is exactly absent of guilt either."

"If this is your way of 'welcoming me to the club', I'd rather not be a member."

"What we're saying," said Dean wishing he had a hammer with which to break through Cas' obviously thick skull, "is that we've screwed up too. That's what happens when you have free will. You make mistakes. And in our world, those mistakes tend to have big consequences. What's important is what you do next."

"But I don't know what to do next," cried Castiel his voice a mixture of frustration and despair. "I don't even know what I am. I was an angel, a warrior of heaven and earth, then a god with all the power of the world at my finger tips. Now I'm just a burnt out husk."

In Dean's eyes, Castiel did in some ways seem diminished, crumpled in on himself with lines on his face that Dean was sure hadn't been there before. It had admittedly been a rough year. In fact, the past six or seven years had all been pretty rough. And for once, things had started looking up. Dean had actually started feeling optimistic about things and now Castiel's depression was bringing him back down. He really needed to cheer this guy up.

"Well, what do you want to do?" he asked.

Castiel gazed at him his eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Come on, Cas. There's got be something you want to do: tour the Grand Canyon, try a chilli dog, bungee jump, learn Klingon, see Rent, anything. We did just save the entire world, again. We should at least celebrate."

"You're not going to take me to a den of iniquity again, are you?"

"Den of iniquity?" asked Sam with eyebrows raised.

"Long story," Dean said quickly before addressing Castiel once more. "No, not this time. As hilarious as that was, this is about you, what you want."

"I…," Castiel hesitated, his expression resembling that of a lost child as he glanced from one brother to the other. "I don't… I never…"

Sam placed a hand on Cas' shoulder. "I guess despite all this fighting for free will, you've only been choosing what side to fight on or how to fight. You've never actually had the chance to choose something just for yourself."

"Yeah, and it's about time you had some fun," said Dean. "So what'll it be? White water rafting? Monster truck show? World's largest jelly donut? We'll even go along for the ride to make sure everything goes smoothly. Whatever you want."

For several moments, Castiel's entire face remained furrowed with contemplation, his eyes gazing distantly up at the sky. Dean followed his gaze and saw a patch of blue had appeared between the clouds.

"I want to fly a kite," Castiel announced suddenly.

"You want to what?" For a moment, Dean thought Cas was pulling his leg but when the fallen angel turned to him, his expression was completely serious. "Of all the lame ass…"

"You did say whatever he wanted," Sam pointed out, a smirk on his face.

"Yeah, but…" Dean tried to think of a way out of his hastily made promise, but realized he was stuck. Besides it looked like some of the oppressive weight had actually lifted itself from Castiel's shoulders. If this was what it took to get Cas out of his funk… "Fine. I'll go see if Bobby has one."

Leaving the other two on the steps, Dean re-entered the house. He called out loudly for Bobby as he did so forgetting that he'd left him peacefully sleeping on the couch. He reached the library just in time to see Bobby jerk upward, the book on his stomach tumbling loudly onto the floor.

"What?" the old hunter exclaimed looking around in alarm.

Dean winced slightly. "Um… I don't suppose you happen to have a kite lying around here somewhere."

"A kite?" Bobby looked at him in disbelief. "You woke me up because you're looking for a kite?" The look of disbelief turned into a glare. "What the hell do you need a kite for?"

"Well you see, we… ah…"

"Forget it. I don't even want to know." Bobby made his way over to his desk. "Actually, I have exactly what you need." Grabbing a large book, he tossed it at Dean who only just managed to catch it before it hit him in the face.

Dean glanced down at the book. It was the yellow pages.

"I suggest you look under toy shops. Now, go have your fun and let me sleep in peace!"

Dean made a hasty exit flipping through the phone book as he did so. By the time he got back to the others, he knew where they were going.

"Come on, guys. It's time to head to Hobby Town USA."

By the time the Impala pulled into the strip mall parking lot, it seemed like Castiel was already falling back into his funk.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," he said eyeing the store warily through the car window.

Dean let out a sigh. "It's not like anything bad can happen. It's kite flying for Christ's sake."

Castiel immediately did his best kicked puppy dog impression while Sam sent Dean a look indicating it was clearly all Dean's fault.

"Fine. Well, since we're already here. I'm going in." He got out of the car calling out over his shoulder, "You coming?"

Slowly, Castiel followed his lead walking sullenly behind him as they headed into the store.

Dean shook his head. Why did it feel like he'd suddenly adopted an emo teenager?

Once inside, Dean found himself immediately drawn towards the remote control cars, but Sam grabbed his arm pulling him in the direction of the colourful corner where all the kites hung. Dean gazed at them without a clue where to start. It's not like he ever really contemplated kites before. He had no idea what the different styles meant or what material was best. He passed by a rainbow kite, ignored a butterfly kite, and chuckled at a skull and crossbones kite, but a black kite with orange flames caught his eye. He skimmed through the little booklet attached to it which went on about the extreme speeds it could achieve and precision stunts it could do. Well, he thought, if they were all going to fly kites, they might as well each have their own one.

"Hey," said Sam as he approached. He had a similar style of kite in his hands but with a colourful geometric pattern on it. "I think we have a problem." He nodded at something behind Dean.

Turning, Dean found Castiel standing frozen in the midst of all the kites, his eyes moving jerkily from one to another.

"So, have you picked one yet?" Dean asked.

"I don't know which one to choose," Castiel replied as if he was admitting an extreme failing on his part.

"Just pick the one you like the most."

"But what if I pick the wrong one?"

"It's just a kite," exclaimed Dean, but the forlorn look reappeared on Castiel's face. Dean found himself sighing again. "If you pick the wrong one, we'll return it and you'll pick a better one, because next time you'll know better. Now choose."

Castiel contemplated the kites for another moment or two before finally reaching out for one. It was a classically shaped diamond kite with stripes in a rainbow of colours and a tail adorned by little bows.

Dean opened his mouth to proclaim how girly the kite was, but shut it again realizing he should just be glad Cas had finally chosen one.

Paying for the kites, they left the store and rode around for awhile searching for the best place to fly them. And at Dean's insistence, somewhere no one could see them making fools of themselves.

They eventually located an appropriate place and were soon standing on top of a grassy hill each with a kite in their hand.

Castiel frowned as he stared down at his kite. "How do we make them fly?"

"It's easy," said Dean. "You just run with it, let it go, and it swoops up into the air." He proceeded to demonstrate, but when he let his kite go, it simply tumbled to the ground trailing along the grass as he ran. Dean stopped and glared at the kite.

"You've never actually done this before," Castiel observed flatly.

"We didn't really have that type of childhood," admitted Sam.

"Well, yeah," said Dean, "but everyone knows how to fly a kite. It's easy." Or at least, it seemed that way on TV.

Dean tried several more times, but the kite refused to lift into the air. It just dragged along the ground gaining grass stains.

"Maybe there isn't enough wind," said Sam with a gloomy attitude Dean had really hoped he had shaken him of. "We could always try another day."

Castiel bowed his head his kite hanging limply from his hand.

"No," Dean declared, "We are not trying another day." His tone held all the determination and resolve he'd gained from a lifetime of fighting monsters and poor odds. "We're going to get these damn kites up today if it kills us."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "What happened to flying kites being lame ass?"

"Oh, shut up and grab this," said Dean. "Maybe if we both run with it, it'll work."

The brothers took off, Sam holding the kite, Dean holding the line. Dean felt like an idiot but after a few minutes he felt a tug as the string went taut. Looking behind him, he saw that Sam had let go and the kite was lifting up on its own. He let the string run freely from the spool and the kite rose further in the air.

"We did it!" Dean exclaimed. Both he and his brother smiled as they watched the kite go higher and higher

It took a few tries but Sam and Castiel's kites were soon in the air too, though Dean had a hard time not laughing at the sight of Castiel running along the hill with the colourful kite in his hand and his trenchcoat flapping behind him.

Dean was amazed at how much of the kites flight he could feel through the string in his hands. He wasn't usually a fan of flying but this was a type of flying he could enjoy, namely because it left both his feet on the ground. He attempted to do a few of the stunts they showed in the little booklet that came with the kite. After a few minutes, he was able to get it to do little swoops through the air. He looked over at his brother to brag only to find Sam happily leading his kite in various summersaults. For Dean, this meant the war was on. He swung his kite around until he was able to lead it in a dive bomb directly for Sam's kite. The kites collided and Sam's kite plummeted to the ground.

"Booyah!" cried Dean.

"Hey!" protested Sam as he ran after his kite.

With a large grin, Dean turned to Cas to ask if he'd seen and found the former god staring up at his distant kite with an expression of peace on his face. The gray clouds had cleared leaving Castiel's bright kite framed against blue sky as he stood in a patch of sun. For the first time in years, Dean thought Cas might actually be okay. Maybe they all would be.

Turning back to his brother, Dean left the angel alone to fly his kite.

_With tuppence for paper and strings_

_You can have your own set of wings_

_With your feet on the ground_

_You're a bird in a flight_

_With your fist holding tight_

_To the string of your kite_

'_Let's Go Fly A Kite' from Marry Poppins_

_Written by Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman_


End file.
